


Steven & Vidalia

by AurigaCapella



Series: Recovery [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 09:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AurigaCapella/pseuds/AurigaCapella
Summary: Steven finally gets some much needed help with his mental health.





	Steven & Vidalia

“Steven, you know I care about you. It’s just hard right now, I’m- I’m just not sure I’m the right person for you to talk to about all of this. I want to be there for you, but I’m involved in all of this, and so are the Gems, and so is your dad,” said Connie.

“So we don’t have to talk about it!” said Steven. “Everything’s fine! I’m fine, you’re fine, Lars can’t get home but he’s alive, so he’s fine…”

“That’s exactly it.” Connie took a step away toward him. “Everything isn’t fine, and we all know it, but you can’t seem to admit that. And what’s worse, you don’t seem to care! You could have died. Do you know what that would have done to me- to all of us?”

“But I didn’t die and that’s what matters, right? No one died, at least not permanently. Everyone’s good, everyone’s safe.”

Connie handed Steven a slip of paper. “Just, do it what it says on this paper, ok? If you call me after, I promise I’ll answer.”

Steven looked down at the folded piece of paper. It was an ordinary sticky note, pale yellow. He slowly unstuck the adhesive and read the words written inside. “2pm, Monday, 3114 Boardwalk Drive… Connie, what’s this mean?”

But she was already walking away. Steven tucked the slip of paper into his pocket and reluctantly turned to go home.

\--

He tossed and turned that night, the numbers on his Cookie Cat alarm clock slowly ticking up to twelve and then back through the single digits.

Maybe everyone wasn’t good. Maybe no one felt safe. It was even possible no one loved him anymore. They just couldn’t see the wisdom in his decision to give himself up, and why would they? They didn’t know what it was like to have the guilt of a previous life you couldn’t even remember at the core of your entire being. Steven placed his hand over his gem and sighed.  

The Gems and Dad were also treating him strangely, maybe they were just as angry as Connie. Maybe no one would ever be able to trust him or love him again after what happened. Maybe they never had, except for the leftover love they had for his mom. Connie, at least, had seemed to love him for himself but now she was gone too. He thought about never forming Stevonnie again, never writing another song with his dad, never training with Pearl or gaming with Amethyst or sharing stories with Garnet. 

He'd felt less alone on Homeworld. At least Lars had been there and, for everything Steven had put him through, Lars hadn't been angry with him.

Meanwhile, since he had gotten home Dad and the Gems had stopped saying anything real to him, artificially keeping their conversations and activities light. Dad and Pearl seemed to constantly be trading off supervising him, nodding to one another whenever the transfer happened- yes, they had been watching him, he realized. Other than when he was sleeping one or the other was always within arm’s reach.

Steven rose and tip-toed to the stairs. He looked down and saw Pearl, sitting at the base of the steps, hemming a pair of his jeans. So even when he was supposed to be sleeping, someone was there.

Did they think he was dangerous? He felt caged, like a sweet but unpredictable dog they wanted to hold close but also feared. Basically, Dogcopter in Dogcopter IV, Escape from the Pound. But Dogcopter was able to convince everyone he was still the same Dogcopter by blowing up that rogue asteroid. Similar heroics from Steven never seemed to work out. This time they had only pushed everyone further away.

He went over to his hamper, pulled out his jeans, and extracted the sticky note Connie had handed him. Where could she be sending him?

She had never given him a reason not to trust her before and she promised to talk to him if he went. He fell asleep clutching the paper- anything would be worth having his best friend back.

\--

On Monday he told Pearl he wanted to run an errand down on Boardwalk Drive. She sent him off but whenever he turned around she was there, pretending to nonchalantly examine a storefront or tie her non-existent shoe laces. When he reached number 3114 he looked back one more time and saw her perched on a nearby bench. He supposed this meant he had her blessing to enter, so he turned the knob and stepped through the door.

 He found himself in a small lobby lined with green plants and watercolor paintings. A comfortable-looking couch sat against one wall while a door was closed on the opposite side of the room. He approached the second door and found a small, narrow tag affixed in the center. “Vidalia Cippolini, LCSW.” He only knew one Vidalia but she lived in a neighborhood, not on the boardwalk.

The door in front of him squeaked open and the same Vidalia he knew stood in the doorframe. “Good afternoon, Steven. I’m really glad to see you. Would you like to come in?”

“Umm, yeah, I guess,” Steven muttered. He felt his shoulders rise to meet his ears as he shuffled his way into the next room. It was decorated much like the first room, lots of plants and a set of cozy arm chairs, plus a low book shelf. One corner of the room was an island of chaos in the otherwise calm space with a paint-splattered tarp unrolled on the floor and a pair of easels set facing a large window. As he walked through the doorway he heard the sound of falling rain coming from a small, white box.

“White noise machine,” Vidalia explained when she noticed him staring at it. “That way, if my next appointment arrives and sits in the waiting room they won’t hear what we’re talking about. I may be a rebel but I believe in privacy.” Vidalia smiled. “Why don’t you have a seat over there?” She gestured to the set of chairs.

Steven perched awkwardly on the edge of one of the chairs. His feet still didn’t reach the floor. He kicked them slowly back and forth.

Vidalia settled into the chair across from him. “Steven, do you know why Connie asked you to come here today?”

Steven looked at his kicking feet. “Uh. No. I didn’t really know you had a second house, or what those letters after your name mean, or anything. I thought maybe she finally wanted to talk to me, but she isn’t here.” He looked up hopefully at Vidalia. “Is she?”

“No, she’s not. And about those letters and this office- this is my job. I’m a therapist. I specialize in art therapy, and I work mostly with teenagers.”

“Oh. Is Connie ok?”

“Yes. Dr. Maheswaran had her start seeing someone over in Bayburgh about a year ago, which is how Connie got the idea to approach me about this- she’s been worried about you. Do you want me to explain what we can do together?”

Steven thought for a moment. This was strange, but he did want Connie to speak to him again. “If Connie says it’s a good idea, I guess so.”

“Ok. So my job, aside from doing rad paintings of Amethyst and looking after my guys, is helping people understand and express themselves better. I’m pretty good at leading people so they come to make sense of what they’re feeling. That way they can work through their problems and cope with tough situations, you know? Mostly, I’ll listen to you. How does that sound?”

“Fine, I think.” Why did Connie think he needed to talk about what happened? He was fine, but this didn’t seem like too much to do if it meant getting things back to normal. “Umm. What did Connie tell you?”

Vidalia looked thoughtful. “Not too much, just that a few things have happened lately and she’s worried about what you think of yourself. She thought it might be a good idea for you to talk to someone who isn’t involved directly with your life, and I think she’s right about that. Sometimes it’s easier to tell someone who’s practically a stranger about the stuff we think about, good and bad, than it is talk to someone you live with, or your dad, or your best friend.”

“Like how I sing new songs to MC BearBear and Sir Bearington before anyone else?” Steven asked.

Vidalia nodded. “Sort of like that, but I’ll, you know, give feedback. I’m guessing your bears don’t do that.”

Steven chuckled. “No, it just makes me feel better to practice having an audience before actually having one.”

“Makes sense to me,” said Vidalia. “If you decide you want to start coming to see me, it’ll be every week at first, then eventually less often. It’ll be like this, where we sit and have a chat. I promise I won’t tell anyone what we talk about unless I think you’re going to hurt yourself, or hurt someone else. Sometimes we can paint too, or you can bring your guitar and show me what you’re working on.”

 Steven settled back into the chair a little more. “That might be ok.”

“Alright, let’s try it out. Why don’t you tell me what’s changed in your life over the last year?”

Steven’s hands started fidgeting. “Umm… like what?” He had no idea where to start.

“What seems the most important to you?”

He laughed nervously. “Umm. Did you know my mom?”

“Only a little bit, and if that makes you uncomfortable I have a colleague over in Shoretown who can see you who has never met any of your family members.”

“No, I think it’s ok. Anyway, my mom, Rose Quartz? I found out she did a bad thing, maybe. Or maybe everyone just thinks she did. And, I’m kind of her, you know? So that’s been sort of a lot…”

\--

An hour later Steven stepped into the lobby and softly closed the door behind himself. He felt a little unsteady, and little bit lighter, and very slightly both less and more confused.

He found Pearl still sitting on the same bench. She noticed him and turned away, a blue-green blush creeping over her cheeks. Maybe it was ok that she was embarrassed she was following him, and maybe it was also ok that he was equally annoyed and grateful.

Steven stepped a few paces away from Vidalia’s office, out of Pearl’s listening range, and dialed Connie’s phone number.

After two rings she picked up. Steven jumped right in. “Listen, Connie. I just want to say… thank you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know Vidalia wouldn't actually be an appropriate therapist for Steven given how they're connected, but this idea has been stuck in my brain since I saw Onion Friend- she's an empathetic listener for Amethyst, pretty non-judgmental, and a parent who really encourages her kids to be individuals. 
> 
> I think Steven really needs an adult who is outside the Gem/Rose Quartz situation to talk to. Connie seemed like the character most likely to notice. Probably it also isn't acceptable to lure him into an appointment without explaining it first but since Steven isn't awesome at appropriate self-care it seems like something Connie would try to justify.


End file.
